


Ten Years Later

by Atanih88



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn
Genre: M/M, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-28
Updated: 2010-10-28
Packaged: 2017-10-12 22:45:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/129938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atanih88/pseuds/Atanih88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Returning to their own time, Gokudera and Yamamoto begin to put things into perspective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten Years Later

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Всему свое время](https://archiveofourown.org/works/785502) by [Oxygen_Neutron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oxygen_Neutron/pseuds/Oxygen_Neutron)



> Written for saxon_dogs at lj's la_consorteria.

Gokudera sat outside on a huge broken piece of stone. The blazer to his suit was on the patches of grass that had begun to sprout beneath the ruins that had once been Namimori High. It was odd how it felt so surreal. After all he'd gotten used to being back in the past.

There was a hiss of a sound and he cupped his hand around the lit match, leading it to the cigarette sitting comfortably between his lips. He waited for that glow and the thin trail of smoke, then gave one hard shake and the flame was gone again.

He leaned back, the palm of his hand pressed against the rough surface of the stone behind him as he tipped his head back and stared up at a sky that had the same stars that had been there only last night. Just ten years earlier.

His lips pulling on the cigarette, Gokudera let the smoke pour into him before letting it out in a stream.

Nothing had changed much since they'd gotten back earlier this morning. The only change had been that the Millefiori were now scattered and in the minority. Not extinct by any means. But the family that had threatened the Vongola had disintegrated into the original pieces it had begun with, the two families breaking apart as Byakuran sought refuge while Uni gained back the control of the Giglio Nero and maintained their loyalty.

Or so Gianini and Kusakabe had informed them.

As for the others, their younger selves who had taken over their world for a while, they'd gone back to their time.

Gokudera wasn't worried about history having to repeat itself. If they'd managed to keep the worse at bay here, when they were so out of their league, then they'd manage to do the same in their own time.

All they could do on this side now was patch everything together and wait for the actions of something that would happen ten years earlier, to change the ten years later.

Maybe Tsuna, Reborn, Collonello, Yamamoto's dad and everyone else—maybe they'd come back too once things were set right back there.

Gokudera's eyes dropped from the stars to settle instead on the curls of smoke dissipating into the air as they left his lips. He didn't start when someone approached him. Didn't even look back.

The katana was placed carefully between them and then Yamamoto was sinking onto the stone beside him.

"Just got back?"Gokudera asked, observing the shortened cigarette. Then he took it to his mouth again.

"Yeah." Yamamoto's tone was calm—quiet, but there was something there that filled it which hadn't been present for a long while. A touch of peace. "I didn't have the chance to properly pay my respects either. It was good that we all managed to go."

Gokudera nodded.

There was a short laugh from Yamamoto. "Even Hibari went."

The corner of Gokudera's mouth curled and he finished off the cigarette before flicking it away. "That's unexpected."

Yamamoto shrugged and when he spoke again his voice was a little more serious. "I think like everyone else, he also needed the confirmation. Even knowing we'd have to come back it was too easy to slip into life the way it was back then. To see everyone."

Gokudera looked at the other man for the first time that night.

Yamamoto, unlike him was leaning forward. His elbows were braced on his thighs and his linked hands hanging in the space between his knees. There was a small smile on his face as he stared at the blades of grass that gleamed even in the dark of night. Gokudera thought that he saw a small touch of the more carefree smile that Yamamoto had worn when they were younger.

"Yeah, it was odd sitting at the old places."

"Maybe we'll get them back."

Gokudera shrugged but both of them knew that the motion was only a way to tone down the hope that warmed his stomach. And the excitement. Yes. There was excitement in him now. Small, but there. He wondered if Yamamoto was feeling it too.

His mouth curved even more, a proud look filling his face even as a touch of smugness filled his next words. "Tenth kicked ass."

Yamamoto let out a bark of laughter and turned to look at Gokudera.

And there it was. The emotions of ten years earlier beginning to fill their lives of ten years later.

For a few seconds they stared at each other, the smallest of smiles on Gokudera's face and a genuine and honest smile on Yamamoto's. It was the rediscovery of something other than hurt and loss. And it was enough to bring back reminders of unfinished business. Of things started long before the damages to the Vongola that had been put on hold.

Gokudera saw the smile on Yamamoto's face fade, although the new emotion to his brown eyes didn't disappear but instead, flared. It made Gokudera's thoughts of the past and their future disappear into the back of his mind. He sat up, trying not to show that he was aware of the territory they were heading into, with the unspoken acknowledgement that they were both remembering the same thing.

He looked away. He wondered when it had been the last time that he'd felt anticipation and dread for anything other than a battle. He couldn't remember so he settled for the general guess of a while.

Gokudera stilled when a rough hand slid under the strands of hair that brushed against his skin and moulded itself to his cheek. The skin of the hand was tough, used to closing around the hilt of a sword more than anything else.

"It was never settled was it?" Yamamoto murmured. Though spoken in such a low tone, the words didn't come out regretful, or hurt, or accusatory. They weren't even demanding. Instead, like the gaze that had settled on his face once more they were warm and relaxed.

They were picking up where they left off.

"I don't know if you noticed the chain of events that we've been through the last few months." Gokudera muttered, feeling uncomfortable. He shifted and drew out the pack of Malboro Red's from his discarded jacket. But he didn't move the hand on his cheek aside.

He tapped the packet against the palm of his hand until the white tip of a cigarette peeked out from the small box. Catching it between thumb and forefinger he pulled it out. He didn't acknowledge the slight tremble of his fingers when Yamamoto's hand slid from his cheek to the back of his neck.

The katana was pushed against Gokudera's thigh as Yamamoto inched closer. The side of his arm pressed into Yamamoto's chest as his mouth came close to his cheek and breathed a light brush of air onto the skin there.

Gokudera kept the cigarette balanced between his fingers but didn't make any move to light it. He sat still as his eyes slid closed and his body warmed from Yamamoto's closeness.

"I was wondering," each syllable was spoken into Gokudera's skin, "if it would be okay... for us to think about this now..." Yamamoto crowded closer, pressing the katana harder against Gokudera, "just a little?"

A small tremor went through him and Gokudera squeezed the cigarette with the press of his fingers. Before, he would've shoved the hand way—he would've shoved Yamamoto away. The thing between them— _this_ , he would've ignored. But now Gokudera found himself unable to say anything as the familiar scent pierced the air he breathed. He couldn't help but feel a need at the words breathed onto his skin.

Gokudera was grateful for something familiar, that belonged to both then and now, remaining with him.

With his free hand Gokudera shifted, turning half way to face Yamamoto. His hand fisted Yamamoto's shirt, not minding the tie that got caught as well and jerked him close. The skin on his neck where Yamamoto's hand was still pressed to was becoming damp as the heat between their skin became that bit warmer.

Their eyes locked.

" _Think_ about it...?" Gokudera asked. His lips brushed against Yamamoto's as he spoke and he almost swallowed at the anticipation.

He caught the crinkling of Yamamoto's eyes as he openly smiled. "Eh... well—maybe that wasn't the right word."

Gokudera snorted softly. "Yeah, maybe not." Then he kissed the smile on Yamamoto's face.

It was stupid to think so, but Gokudera thought he could taste the essence of it as his lips pressed against Yamamoto's and the smile faded in favour of properly feeling each other. He thought the taste of that smile, was the same as the scent of the rain. Soothing and compelling.

He stopped wondering about it as the hand on the back of his neck drew him even closer and urged him to tip his head back.

Yamamoto shifted onto his knees and propped himself over him as Gokudera allowed their lips to part and let his eyes take Yamamoto in.

There was silence around them, a thick blanket of it that was only disturbed by the moist sound of their mouths as their warmth seeped into each other, their tongues brushing and stroking. The kiss wasn't soft but it wasn't rough. It was something firm, solid.

It settled the unsettled.

When they pulled apart, Yamamoto had one knee wedged between Gokudera's thighs; his hands were both keeping Gokudera's face turned up as Yamamoto nipped the swollen lips. Yamamoto didn't seem to feel the biting grip on his hips where Gokudera had settled his hands to settle himself.

As the nips slowed and gentled to one last clinging kiss on his bottom lip, Gokudera let his eyes stay closed, feeling Yamamoto's breath fanning over his damp mouth.

"Oi..." he said.

Yamamoto lowered his head and rasped his teeth over the curve of Gokudera's chin. "Hmm..." his knee slid higher and pressed against Gokudera's inner thigh, feeling the slight quiver of it before Gokudera willed his body to still.

"Outside isn't such a good idea... idiot."

Yamamoto chuckled before sliding his mouth even lower and closing it over the bump at Gokudera's throat that moved smoothly under the skin when Gokudera spoke.

Gokudera's breath hitched and his hand slid up and around to Yamamoto's back, under the blazer to clench the shirt there.

"Stupid—you don't change do you?"

At that the soft stings of Yamamoto's mouth pulling at his throat stopped and Yamamoto lifted away so he was looking down at Gokudera once more. "Isn't that good?"

Gokudera scoffed, then straightened—feeling the need to sink his teeth into the corner of Yamamoto's mouth—

"Stop desecrating the school grounds unless you have a death wish."

The deadly tone and familiar voice had them both freezing on the spot. Gokudera wasn't even aware of the hiss of annoyance he let out before tipping his head back to get an upside down view of Hibari looking less than happy at their display.

This was also something that was obviously returning from old habits. Hibari looked like he was ready to tear into them for daring to violate his precious school grounds. Even after all these years, Hibari's severe attachment to the school still left Gokudera a little bit disturbed. But it had been a long time since Gokudera had remembered that, much less felt it.

Unlike him though, Yamamoto was smiling up at Hibari. "Hey Hibari."

Gokudera shoved the idiot—how long had it been since he'd thought of Yamamoto in such simple terms?—off of him and tried to ignore the pinch of his trousers that had not been there earlier.   
Yeah, Hibari was an asshole.

"Shut up and come inside, we're waiting for you." Hibari crossed his arms and glared. "Don't make me spend more time than necessary with herbivores." Then turning his back on them, Hibari started walking away.

That's right. Before anything could change and friends could be brought back, they'd have to make sure that no one could intervene on the things going on in their world ten years earlier.

Gokudera frowned as he untangled himself from Yamamoto and saw that the cigarette that he'd taken out earlier was on the floor.

"Hey Gokudera..."

Gokudera looked up from picking up his blazer and watched as Yamamoto straightened, his katana looking comfortable in his hand. "What?"

"Later right?"

Tucking his blazer under his arm, Gokudera started walking; ignoring the discomfort he felt lower south and getting out another cigarette as he went.

"Later."

He didn't have to look back to know that Yamamoto was smiling. This time, their later didn't mean after they finished defending themselves from an inevitable and devastating attack.

This time 'later' meant after they finished getting themselves back on track.

Soon they'd have their ten year younger selves reshaping crucial moments. They had to make sure no one made it back there during that time.

Then, their ten years later would revert to what it needed to be. And later...

Yeah.

Everyone would have a later.


End file.
